


A Long, Long Road

by vanjiebitchh



Series: One Shots [5]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 15:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20726393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanjiebitchh/pseuds/vanjiebitchh
Summary: I'm feeling emotional and angsty and this is the product. Im sorry.





	A Long, Long Road

Brock was always proud to be Brooke Lynn Hytes, but he liked to keep the lives separate. His whole career, it was either Brock or Brooke Lynn. That is, until he fell in love with José. Then Brock and Brooke got both José _and _Vanessa. That's essentially four egos in one relationship.

When Brock and José broke up, it was- _difficult- _to say the least. They had broken up long before their season, and then had to watch it happen all over again on screen.

They managed. They were civil. Hell, they even got back into their habits they had when they were together. They would text, facetime, and if they were near, they'd meet up.

The summer after their season, things changed a lot. Turns out, old habits are hard to break. During their European tour, they got even closer, as only you can when you are stuck in close quarters with someone you love for six weeks.

They weren't together though.

They would probably never be together again.

It was just too much.

The tour ended less than ideally. Vanjie and Brooke got into a giant fight, it was worse than any fight they had ever been in. Neither one of them could even tell you how it started. But it escalated. Words were said, and Vanessa decided she couldn't be in the same country as Brooke. She left. She flew home the next morning and missed the last show of the tour.

Nobody asked Brooke. They all knew better. Brooke through herself into the last show with all she had, ignoring the gnawing feeling in her heart at the absence of the fiery Puerto Rican. The tour bus was quieter without Vanjie's loud voice. Brooke found herself missing the tiny Latina, as she always did when Vanjie wasn't around.

As soon as Brock was home, he sent a text to José.

_**Toes:**_ We good?

It wasn't the long-written apology that José had wanted, had hoped for, but that was how Brock was.

_**Big Guy: **_Yea. We good.

José and Brock didn't speak a word to each other until the following Sunday at Market Days in Chicago. Things were tense, but they weren't as bad as Brock expected them to be. The next day is when Brock had snapped.

The posts.

The edits.

The theories.

It was all getting old.

_"@bhytes1 just tweeted:_

_Y'all really need to let Branjie go. It's over. We have moved on. I love José so much. He is kind, loyal, funny (and crazy) and I love spending time with him and am so happy he is my FRIEND. We will always have love for each other and have each others backs..._

_...with that being said, I can't wait for the Branjie show on Wednesday. xD"_

Brock switched his phone off. It needed to be said. These fans were taking it too far. He just wanted to miss José in peace.

Brock feels bad for the fight. He doesn't even know how it started. He was at a party with other queens and when he got back, it was a blur, and him and Vanjie were having a full-blown screaming fight. He was not excited for the Branjie show. He felt like he was being used. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to see José again.

*

_"I'm goin live." Vanjie yelled in the loud club. _

_"No-Vanj-Don't!" Brooke couldn't get the words out fast enough. Vanjie was already hitting the button. They were both extremely drunk. _

_I didn't know if we could be trusted to be civil on a live. _

_Vanjie decides to point the camera to my tuck._

_"Vanjie that's rude."_

_"it's not rude, it's my live. Say hi drunky pants!"_

_"Hello Instagram. I am not drunk, I am sober." Brooke said into the camera, hoping he was convincing, "She is not Pocahontas, I am not Taylor Swift, we're fine."_

_They knew they'd regret the drinks in the morning._

_*_

And boy, did they. Bright and early the next morning, Brock woke up in an unfamiliar hotel room with a familiar warmth next to him. Realization hit him, and his stomach hit his butt. He rolled over to confirm what he already knew: _José. _

_José naked._

_José naked in bed with him._

_Shit._

With perfect timing, the small Puerto Rican started to wake up. Confusion spread across his face as his eyes floated to Brock, who was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Toes?" he squeaked out.

"Hm?" Brock replied, not looking at him.

"Did we-?" José started.

"Mhm."

José hit the palm of his hand to his forehead. One step forward, three steps back into bed.

The two queens hurried to get their things together before going their separate ways with a mutual understanding to never speak of this again.

And they didn't. Weeks passed and they barely talked. It left Brock feeling empty. He missed the smaller queen more than he knew how to express. He didn't know if it was reciprocated, he didn't care. He just missed José.

Their schedules got busier with DragCon, the S11 tour closing show, and José starting the Werq The World Tour. Brock contemplated telling José how he felt at DragCon but he didn't want to be the cause of extra stress on him.

_"It's too much_." Brock had said almost one year ago, _"I just can't handle this right now."_

DragCon came and went, and things were back to normal. Vanjie went off on the WTW tour, killing it in a different city every night! Brock knew this because he was watching. He always watched the pictures and the videos, no matter how hard it was. Every time he watched the small queen dance, his heart panged with longing.

_I miss you._ He would type into his phone, and just to delete it seconds later, telling himself that no, José is better off without him.

But José wasn't better off without him. Every night he painted Vanessa on his face, he zipped up the pretty dresses, fixed the nice wigs, and became a whole different person, all while missing Brooke Lynn.

_ **bhytes is live! Tap to watch.** _

Vanessa tapped the notification and hoped that she could sneak in without anyone noticing her. It seemed to work.

_"Hi guys!" Brooke said, looking stunning with her wavy wig and red dress, "Mama Hytes and I are here in London, getting ready to go to G-A-Y Porn Idol! So, make sure you come out!"_

_Brooke showed the hotel room, and the dress she was wearing. _

_"Oh," Brooke breathed out, "hi." She said softly with a small smile._

_Vanjie knew that was for her._

_"Alright guys, we have to go. See you soon!" Brooke blew a kiss and then ended the live._

So. Half of José's heart was in London. No wonder he felt so empty.

*

Brooke never thought she would see Vanjie watch another one of her lives, so when she saw her name pop in, she was caught off guard. Her heart warmed.

Brooke continued to watch Vanjie's progress on WTW, but still couldn't send her that message.

Two months passed. Two months of not talking, aside from a quick _Happy Birthday_ text form Brock to José on October 3rd. Brock was home and was fully unsure of where José was. It wasn't until his second night home, after his show, that he realized that José too was in Nashville. It was about 3am when his phone rang, and it was him.

"Broooooock." Brock could almost tell that there was a goofy grin on the other end of the phone.

"José, it's 3am. Are you ok?"

Silence.

"José?"

Still silence. Worry started in Brock's chest.

Then there was a sound. It sounded like sobbing. He was crying.

"José?! What's going on?"

"I'm so sorry." José said through tears, "I'm just so sorry. I'm sorry for DXP. I'm sorry for everything. I miss you. I miss you so much hoe."  
Only José could make _hoe_ sound so endearing.

"Baby, where are you?"

"I'm at the club, I had a gig at your old club tonight. I think I've gotta get an uber or some shit."  
"Wait, you're in Nashville?" Brock said, stunned that José was less than ten minutes away.

"Yeah. I don't remember the address to the hotel Brock. Shit. I'm gonna have to sleep on the sidewalk outside the club." José was still crying.

"José I'm home, I'll come get you."

"You're really gonna come get me? My knight in shining armor."

Brock just laughed.

"Do you know how to get here? Shit, of course you know how to get here. Sorry, Mary."

"I'll be there soon."

Brock threw on the closest pair of sweats he could get his hands on and pulled on a plain black tee. He practically ran out the room, almost stumbling over Apollo who, for some reason, liked to lay outside his bedroom door.

"Sorry Apollo." Brock muttered, and then he was out the door, on his way to pick up the one person who completed him.

He made the ten-minute drive in seven. He smiled when he saw the small queen sitting on the curb of the deserted sidewalk.

Brock pulled up and rolled down the window.

"Hey big guy." He said, softly. He unlocked the door, got out and helped José with his bags.

José climbed in the front seat of my car it was almost like he belonged there.

"Did you figure out where your hotel was?"

José pulled up the email and handed the phone to Brock.

"Alright." Brock said after looking at the address.

The ride was silent, aside from Vanjie's random sniffles. Each little sniffle, each tear, was an icepick, chipping away at Brock's icy exterior. Vanjie always warmed him up from his typical Ice queen self.

They pulled up outside the hotel, Brock parked and helped José with his bags. José led the way to the room, and once inside, he threw himself face down on the bed.

"You can't sleep in those clothes, José." Brock said, "come here, let me help you get changed."  
José was still pretty drunk. He allowed Brock to help him. Brock slipped off José's shirt, resisting the urge to run his hands across the glorious, bare chest in front of him.

"Brock." José said, but it sounded like a whine.

Brock knew by the sound of José's voice what he wanted.

But Brock couldn't do it. It was different when they both had been drunk.

"Touch me." José whispered.

Brock was sure that it was the alcohol talking.

"Please."

"José." Brock said, "I can't. Not like this."

"What do you mean, hoe?" Anger started to fill José's eyes, "Do you not want me? Am I not good enough for you anymore? Miss Perfect can't be caught in bed with the hoodrat can she?"

"José, that's not it at all. You're drunk. We can't. You need to sleep it off. We can talk in the morning."

If fire could shoot out of someone's ears, Brock was sure he would be able to make s'mores right now. José started yelling. Brock didn't even know what José was on about, but he just let him yell it out. He caught words like _love _and _faithful. _Brock loved him even when he was like this. Finally, José calmed down.

Brock pulled him close, wiped the tears from his cheeks, and brushed his lips across José's forehead. Within seconds, Brock was tucking him into bed.

"Don't leave me." José said, his voice sounded small.

"I won't." Brock laid down behind José, becoming his big spoon, "We'll talk in the morning."  
For the first time in months, they both felt safe. José's breaths became even, and Brock placed a kiss to the back of his head.

"I love you." Brock said, thinking that José was asleep.

But José heard, and a small smile spread across his lips.

_It's a start._ He thought to himself, before sleep took him under.   
  



End file.
